


If you stay by my side, we can Rule the World

by randomananas



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, F/F, Gen, M/M, Multi, Stardust AU, a lot of people will cry, it's basically a mix-up between Movie!Stardust book!Stardust and the fantasy genre
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomananas/pseuds/randomananas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stardust AU. Enjolras is a young revolutionary Frenchboy who always lived in the little village of Les Mur, famous for the mysterious old Wall which, according to the legend, divides this world from another world, full of magic and mysteries. Meanwhile in Stormhold, the so-called world beyond the Wall, the old King Lamarque is dying and his son, the cruel Prince Charles is ready to take the power of the kingdom. A learderless group of young boys are gathering themselves, ready to fight the evil prince. Somewhere in the Land of East, an old and powerful wizard is awating to take back his old power. All of them are witnessed of something which will change their lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wall

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on the movie Stardust (and, in part, on the book which the movie is based on). It's a mix up between Stardust and an original fantasy, indeed from the half until the last the story will be different, but you will not be disappointed :D  
> The title is from the Stardust's main song, Rule the World by Take That (you can listen it [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KII1ruAfvsg) if you want!)

_A philosopher once asked: “Are we human because we gaze to the stars, or do we gaze them because we are human?” Pointless, really… “Do the stars gaze back?” Now that’s the question._ – **Stardust**

When you live in a little village in the middle of the France where any kind of news can reach your ears, you start believing everything they tell you. When you live in a little village of Les Mur, you believe in the unbelievable.  
Enjolras was just a little boy who struggled to take a place in the world when he asked his father the question every child in Les Mur had to ask at some point of their life.  
“What’s beyond the **Wall**?”

His father, like any other parents when their child asked them about the Wall, just smiled and took his head, bringing him to the fruit of Enjolras’ curiosity. The Wall was, indeed, just a wall; a very long and very old wall built with brick, with a breach right in the middle; a breach big enough to let someone pass through. According to the legend, the Wall was a barrier; a powerful, ancient barrier which divided the Earth from the World Beyond the Wall, a world where no one should ever go. The World Beyond the Wall was a land full of mysteries, witches, power and magic, where anything and everything was possible.  
“But why can’t we just go there?” the little Enjolras would ask his father questiongly. Indeed, the breach was well protected by the Guardian, an old man who just stood there, keeping everyone away from trying to pass through it.  
“Because of the **Evil King**. Indeed, according to the legend, thousand years old, when the Wall had been built, an Evil King ruled the World Beyond the Wall. To prevent the Evil King from trying to conquer our land, they built up a magic Wall. For a thousand years the Wall protected us from the World Beyond the Wall and from the Mad King.”  
“But now the King must be dead.” Enjolras pointed out.  
His father laughed, amused by his son, going on with the story. “And here you are wrong. In fact, the legend tells that before the Evil King came to power, he had found a **star**.”  
The very acute 7-years-old Enjolras raised his eyebrow slight, staring into his father’s eyes. “A star?”  
“A star.” His father nodded proudly. “A fallen star. The most powerful thing in the world, a lot of people say. The star is a banner, a banner of hope and peace, but at the same time, it brings power. And, most important, it brings immortality. Whoever owns the Star, owns the endless life. So the legend says. And by the power of the Star, the Evil King keeps ruling and enslaving the World Beyond the Wall.”  
Enjolras looked at his father, astonished. A star, a banner of hope, used as a weapon to enslave people? That was too much, even for him.

“I will stop him, father.” The child replied firmly.  
“You are a brave little soldier, my dear Enjolras, but it’s just a legend…” his father smiled gently, stroking his curly golden hair. “And you are too young, my child, the Guardian will never let you pass.”  
“At the right moment, father. At the right moment, I will be ready. And I will fight the King and let the people of the World Beyond the Wall free. I promise.”

###### 

_**15 years later**_  
“… For this reason we need to fight. We need to stand up, we need to oppose ourselves against the King. They made us slaves, but we deserve to be free. It is our right to be free, to live free or to die fighting. The greater good is the freedom, the liberty of the population of France!” **Enjolras** exclaimed excited and full of energy in front of the crowd who stood there, listening to his words so full of hope. The Revolutionary, so he was called, the young fighter with wonderful blond curly hair, the shape of the prettiest of the men but the eyes of a true leader. The crowd was acclaiming and applauding to him, a man whose words could change the destiny of a population. Enjolras smiled proudly at the people of Les Mur, which was just a little village: he had seen Paris, the great city, but anyone could understand why he had decided to come back in that poor little village when he could have had the chance to change his life and live in the capital of France; he waved to the crowd and left the market place where he usually gave the speeches to the people, and walked towards the little house he lived with his father. The old man welcomed him with a quiet smile, looking up to his boy. 

“How did it go?” the man asked softly.  
“I can feel it, dad. The people are ready. I will talk to the other villages later and we will march against Paris, I’m sure.” Enjolras was a fierce creature, cold as ice and bold as fire, his eyes bright with flames of passion and his pink lips always muttering the word _Revolution_.  
His father was an old man who enjoyed his son’s passion, his only son and only love left in his long life. “I’m glad everything is ready. But many people keep asking me why you came back here… You could stay in Paris and fight there. You would have found a stronger support and probably more friends…” his father continued: he was fully aware of the argument he intended to begin and how Enjolras was reluctant to talk about; he looked down, his fist clutching firmy and the eyes burning with restrained rage.  
“Father..” Enjolras started but his father cut him off with a deep, exasperated sigh.  
“Lightning struck me down the day I talked you about that stupid myth..”  
“It’s not a myth, father! You know it’s not, you have always been the first one to say that it was all real. It is real.” Enjolras replied, kneeling in front of him and looking at his eyes. “I don’t care about what people say about me. I’m here for a purpose and I aim to achieve it. I know the story of the King beyond the Wall is true, I always did.” He continued; whenever Enjolras talked, you always had that feeling you might believe him. The certain of his ideas, his unfaltering beliefs, could make you believe in the impossible. Even the existence of a magic land.  
“And I will fight the Evil King too.”

###### 

“ **Prince Charles** , King Lamarque’s condition are aggravating, you may want to visit him before his… passing…” the doctor leaned slightly to the prince who were looking at the window, at the land of Stormhold, in silence. “I will, of course.” The prince replied, waving his hand and dismissing the doctor. The man bowed respectfully and took his leave. The prince gave a sigh of relief, smiling in peace with himself. 

"Finally you're dying, you bloody decrepit old man..." he commented amused, turning slowly and walking along the large bedchamber with quick strides, pondering about the next move. The king Lamarque was on his deathbed, everyone was aware of it, and no one could save the poor and loved King Lamarque, the people could only hope for a painless death. A quick death especially, Charles hoped.  
He would become king, very soon. It fell to him to sit on the plush armchair embroidered in gold and red silk, him to be king.  
"Finally **king**..." he muttered to himself, closing his eyes slightly and relaxing for a moment. A moment that, apparently, he wouldn’t enjoy long enough: the chambelland knocked strongly thrice.  
“The Bishop is here.” He announced and the Holy Bishop came in, shyly.  
“I’m deeply sorry I have disturbed you, your Highness..”  
“Don’t bother me with your foolish excuses and tell me why are you here. My father isn’t dead yet.” Charles didn’t bother to stand up to the Bishop: little it mattered to him to comply with the formalities to the religious authorities; at that moment he had to focus on matters of major importance: listen to the chatter of a man claiming to be holy and pious and who in the evening used to visit the same brothels frequented by sky pirates was the least of his problems.  
“And I do hope he would keep struggling until the last. Losing your father would be such a great loss to all of us.”  
 _Yes, of course; don’t lie to me, you only fear of being ‘dismissed’. Because you are bloody right of that._  
Charles smiled slightly, looking up to the pious man, such a waste of silk and gold in a poor-minded man such as him.  
“I share the same hope. But tell me why you truly came here.”  
The Bishop gulped for a moment, trying to avoid the prince’s gaze and rubbing his neck, in distress.  
“It’s about the town… The population is getting more and more nervous, they are telling we forgot of them, they are calling for food…” he mumbled uneasy. “I think we should do something, Highness… Talk to them, assure them. It’s probable that they are just worried for their beloved king.”  
“Oh, that’s an unexpected turn of events! Do you think? I thought my father took you because you were good enought to pray in silence. I don’t need of your damn suggestions or thoughts.” Charles stood up angered, approaching to the Bishop and leveled him, staring deeply into his brown eyes.  
“Don’t _I think we should_ to me anymore. Is that clear?”. The religious man widened the eyes, frightened and nodded, withdrawing fearful.  
The fear, such a tasteful flavour on the lips.  
“I will take good care of them, my dear priest, you will see.”

###### 

Combeferre and Courfeyrac climbed the stairs of the tavern and looked around, in case someone were following them. The tavern was full and noisy, many men shouting, drinking and playing, a couple of hookers looking for plucked chickens, sitting on the lap of some man who wanted for a half an hour of fun. It was the perfect place, no one would have bothered to look at them and it was easier to blend into the crowd.  
Joly, Bahorel, Bossuet and the others were already there, waiting for them in silence. Coufeyrac closed the door behind them and the men stood up expectantly.

“So? What’s going on??” **Bahorel** burst out violently; no one was more uncontrollable than Bahorel himself: it was said he had punched a sorcerer of the North because he had threatened to make Feuilly blind, for having poorly repaired the wheel of the carriage. 

“Is that true? King Lamarque is close to death?” **Joly** continued, in the anxious but firm voice of the young doctor. He had studied in the Capital and he was very good doctor… when he was not ill. Indeed, during the work placement, Joly had witnessed an older doctor while taking care of a sky pirate from the rash due to a curse. He felt so bad that he had decided to be allergic to any kind of illness and that he was the victim of any sort of curse and witchcraft.

“Joly, you are overreacting. Lamarque is just ill, he will be fine soon..” **Bossuet** smiled to Joly, stroking his shoulder and calming him down. Laigle, Lègle, L’Aigle du Meaux or just Bossuet was the Unlucky Baron. His family belonged to a real nobilty of the East but when the Wizard King took possess of the reign, he cursed and destroyed the family de Meaux. After 20 years since that horrible moment, Bossuet was one of the few de Meaux left in life and one of the few still carrying the scar of that curse, condemning him to an endless bad luck. Yet Bossuet was the most optimistic of them all, the one who could bring hope and a smile to those who had no more. 

Meanwhile, **Feuilly** laughed joyfully, a wild bush of red hair and a sprinkle of freckles on his smiling face. Nobody knew much about him, aside from Bahorel: Feuilly had no family, no country, nothing, just his friends, his job as handyman and his sharp ears: Feuilly was indeed half Faerie and half human. The Faeries were magical creatures who lived in the woods, very powerful and blessed from the Nature: whoever saw a Faerie received the greatest of blessings and the worst of the curses, so much their world was unapproachable and forbidden. Humans and Faeries could have no contacts each others without risking their own life. That was the sad fate of the parents of Feuilly, Faerie mother and human father, killed because they fell in love. Yet Feuilly loved, like no one else; he loved his friends, loved his city and dreamed of being able to travel and visit France, the mysterious and fascinating world beyond the Wall.

“Calm yourself, boys, caaaalm!! Everything is fine!” **Courfeyrac** smiled, taking a seat with the group of friends. He was a charming and charismatic black curly haired guy, so curly his hair which seemed perpetually in electrocution, and violently electric blue eyes. Courfeyrac himself was a man who could be described as "electric". In fact, he was a Lightning Marshal, a storm chaser. Many were the legends around the Lightning Marshals. Many said that they were a kind of Faeries of the skies, according to others they were witches, some speculated they were gods. Courfeyrac was anything but a Faerie, certainly not a witch and everything could be but a god. The most common theory was that the Lightning Marshals were children born in the clouds, with the ability of controling the lightnings during thunderstorms and throwing them on the ground for fun. Courfeyrac was not usually keen about talking of himself and of his adventures before leaving the clouds: he just enjoyed a reminder of how once he had been captured by the sky pirates, the bitter enemies of the Lightning Marshals, and how he had convinced the captain of the sky vessel to let him go after seducing him and made him fall madly in love.

**Combeferre** , on the other hand, was a more grounded kind of person, someone you could always give your trust to. Light brown hair, brown eyes, Combeferre defined himself a normal person in a not-so-normal place. Combeferre didn’t even belong to that world: he was a Frenchman, a man who trespassed the Wall and there he stayed. He was born in Paris and there he studied medicine, law, literature, philosophy, everything. Anyone could suggest a subject and he would quickly start talking about, great his knowledge and his curiosity about the world. Near the end of his studies, he applied himself about the magic and the alchemy, subjects basically forbidden in a rigorous and pragmatic world such as the Academy of France. Yet Combeferre was stubborn, stubborn and deeply curious about that mysterious world. He travelled for so long until he came in the little village of Les Mur, intrigued by the legend of a magic wall and the secret world beyond it. Passing through the Wall hadn’t been an easy quest: convincing the Guardian, tricking him with high speeches about philosophy… Putting him to sleep with boredom. He hated when people fell asleep with boredom when he talked about philosophy and history but, in that moment, it helped. So he stayed, so he loved Stormhold, so he learned the misteries of the alchemy. 

“Please, be quiet.” The calm voice of Combeferre quieted the room, everyone turning to him and awaiting for their news. “There’s bad news. Very bad news. King Lamarque is close to death. And Prince Charles is ready to take the throne.” The panic filled the room for a moment, shouting scared and complaining loudly. Combeferre quieted them again, sighing tiredly.  
“But now we are ready. We can do it! When Prince Charles takes the power, we will be there and we will stop him!” the group of friends looked each others hesitantly and murmured a general weak “yes.”

Courfeyrac sighed sadly, rubbing his tired face. Not good at all, they were far from ready. None of them were quite convinced, and Combeferre and him were not suitable leaders... They needed someone, an ideal leader who would unit and lead them to victory, to the revolution.  
Courfeyrac slowly walked to the window, opening it. A cool breeze flowed that evening, the Capital stretched immensely, surrounding the high royal palace, home of the dying king and, unfortunately, the future king. He smiled slightly, looking at the city, so big and full of life. The people who lived, unaware of the danger it was about to happen. Then he looked up at the sky, clear and free of clouds, such a great pity. If there had been clouds, he could have called up a storm and maybe put on a bit of healthy noise.  
"The stars, the only ones who are having a great time, very far from our problems… On their own business, only to shine .." commented Courfeyrac, just closing your eyes and opening them again shortly after.  
"Wh-what .." blinked a few times, staring at the starry sky. "Oh shit, **‘FERRE, COME HERE!** "

###### 

Dust, dust, dust, bloody dust everywhere and no one there cleaned. Too much bloody dust.  
"Azelma, come on, get up you slacker and clean this slum!" a raspy male voice croaked from the shadow of the immense and abandoned throne room. A small, mousy girl, graying hair and watery eyes looked up from his dusty corner.  
"Yes, father." Azelma stood up slowly, taking a broom and began to sweep across the marble floor.  
"Argh ... You're good for nothing, as everyone here .." the same hoarse voice continued. A man, or what was left of a man, came up to her daughter, hobbling. He was a very old man, covered only by a filthy cloak, few sparse white hair on the hoary skull, the face wrinkled and little black eyes, full of hate.  
"Go away, you stupid girl! Get out of here!" the man was standing on an old oak stick which used to beat her daughter. The girl closed the eyes and suffered the violence in silence, holding back tears.  
"Please, Thenardier, calm down .." a woman's voice, low and feeble came up to her husband, resting a hand on his hunched back and trying to stop the unnecessary violence.  
"Do not call me in that way, you stupid bitch! You and your damn desire of a castle led us in this forsaken place, with no more powers! I was a king, the **Wizard King** was my name and brought misfortune in all the lands! We commanded, ruled, I was the lord of the witches from all over the kingdom, and now look at us! See how we are reduced! Nothing, nothing! Just misery!"  
Thenardier vented on his wife, screaming furiously and keeping beat his daughter without restraint, until she fainted under the blows.  
The woman groaned, bowing and protecting the daughter in her arms, stroking gently her hair. The woman was old and damaged, perhaps she had been even pretty once, but now the time had fully sucked into the old and worn beauty. The hair which was bright red once had become now ashen, his eyes blue sea had turned into a dirty pond.  
“You useless..” the Wizard King murmured sick, walking away the pitiful scene of motherly love and reached slowly and weakly the huge main door of the once great Castle of the East. 

It was true, once Thenardier had been a great sorcerer, powerful, feared. Capable of destroying an entire court and conquering a castle in a single night. But time went by, and the witches of most of the kingdom thought he was dead and buried long ago. His daughter Eponine died too, for sure. Maybe lost somewhere, but what mattered. He had surrendered to reality.  
The Wizard King finally reached the balcony, a beautiful starry sky shining above him.  
"Ugh .." said disgustedly. The sky was so beautiful he made him even more sick. Only damn stars, good for nothing. Good only to stand there and make fun of the poor human.

And yet ...

An immense light illuminated the sky for a few moments and Thenardier watched the spectacle with growing amazement and joy. Here it is. Here it is. The opportunity he waited his whole life.  
" **I can’t believe it...** "

###### 

Enjolras loved to spend evenings over a hill, just outside the village and close enough to the wall to be able to gaze at the view beyond it. He could only see more hills, more trees, maybe some mountain ahead, but he wasn’t sure. Ever since he was a child, he stopped himself to watch the sight, hoping one day to see something, a sign, a message of help, anything that pushed him to make the final decision and leave. But it was always there, the doubt. That whisper in his mind which told him that maybe, just maybe, his father was right. Maybe it was just a legend, no king ruled there, no one was living there at all. That excruciating doubt remained, and tormented him constantly.  
"No, no. I do not have to be distracted by these uselessness. I have to keep my plan and leave when the time will come." He said to himself every moment.

Enjolras looked up to the starry blue sky, painfully wonderful in all his magnificent. The stars were shining brightly, far, far away from the Earth and made him remember of the legend of the Evil King and his fallen star, the emblem of hope and peace, bringer of power, used as a weapon against harmless people.  
“Yes, yes. I will help them. I will free them.” He whispered like a mantra to himself, a holy prayer which reminded him the purpose, the aim. The greater good.  
He closed his eyes with a hopeful smile, concentrated on his aim. The blond curls danced quietly with the cool spring breeze.  
“The greater good… The greater good..” he whispered again and again, eyes closed, feeling the wind on his skin.  
When he opened his eyes again… He saw it.  
He saw the **sign**. 

Everyone, in all the lands, was witnessing it. The Wizard King in the Eastern Lands. The leaderless group of revolutionary friends, Prince Charles, and Enjolras himself, saw the miracle, the opportunity, the sign.

_A star was falling._


	2. The Foresight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the delay, I'll try to update asap next time!   
> information: the chapter is unbeta'd (my betas are working and busy and I don't want to put more work on them D:)  
> Enjoy!

What a lovely evening. Quiet, peaceful, any noise: it’s been 60 years now, sitting on an old wooden chair, an old stick and a too old back, no longer young as 40 years ago. Sixty years there, without ever moving. Still wondering who the hell has made him do it. He could sit at home, have children, grandchildren, petulant children in the house.  
"And yet here I am! Looking at the trees and die in the cold all night! But who made me do it?"

Every evening, on perfect time, the old man complained to himself about life, about why he was doing that job, why the trees were silent and often, why the flies buzzed around.  
"Oh if I could! If I could!" and he continued to complain, raising his fist to the sky, talking to no one.

Enjolras was aware of it: the Guardian had lost his wits long time ago but people never cared too much about him, just leaving him there, watching out an abandoned Wall.   
Taking advantage of an old man and his job made him feel guilty for the first time since he decided he would be leaving for his mission. And he wouldn’t fail.   
Yet, the main problem stayed.  
 _How would convince the Guardian to let him pass?_

Enjolras stayed at a distance from the Wall and his elderly guardian, considering all the possibilities at his disposal. Deceive him physically seemed hard: he had lost his mind, yes, but it was said to be still able to defend the wall. Deceive by trickery of words... It was easier said than done.   
Enjolras was a very lively lyricist, he knew how to enchant people with the strength of his speeches, but here came into play a very different situation. One thing it was to convince people to believe in a greater cause, another one to convince an old man to transgress a precise order: that was against the very ideals of the young man.

Yet he stood there, without doing anything; but, otherwise, doing nothing was a sign of passivity towards an ideal and he could not accept it: Enjolras was a man in full activity, physical and mental, every part of his body had to be constantly ready to act . He took a deep breath and walked towards the old man in stride, serious look and flashing eyes. 

“Somebody just kill me, _please_. Do it slowly. Maybe give me a punch on the face or make me faint, I don’t know, then kill me. Yes, yes I like it. No, wait, I want a slice of cake first. Yes, the cake first, then you can make me faint and kill me… Or maybe I want a roast chicken? But there is the apple pie…” the old man closed his eyes, licking his lips, thinking about all the things he could eat before someone put an end to the sufferings of a old fool who had to look at a deserted ruin.

"Maybe I should just get up and go for a walk... Or I can stay here and wait for an angel to bring me my apple pie... Oh yes, an apple pie..." the old man swung his head, with a beatific smile while his head was train filled with small pieces of cake that danced happily with fairy wings.  
"Apple pieee..." he mumbled happily, now completely day-dreaming his new world made of apple pie, barely noticing Enjolras approaching quietly to him.

A cough brought him back from the dream world, blinking confused and looking up at the young and beautiful angel with curly hair.  
"Oh... my angel, you brought me the apple pie?" the old man looked at him with the eyes of a child just woken up on Christmas morning, leaning toward him hopefully.

"Excuse me, ang--- what the hell are you talking about?" Enjolras took a step back visibly confused. The situation was worse than usual: only apple pies could conclude a night like this.  
The reaction of Enjolras seemed to disappoint the old guard who sat back on his chair, moral on the ground and sad eyes.

"Hmm .. I apologize." Enjolras could only comment. The old man mumbled something else to himself, slurring words which seemed more like “pie” and “kill”. Enjolras chose wisely to ignore every kind of meaning behind it.  
"What do you want, Miss? This is not a place for a beautiful girl, at this time of night, you know?" the old times continued, mistaking him for a girl and severely rebuking Enjolras. "Such a pretty girl with blonde curly hair and blue eyes... You definitely have a boyfriend somewhere, right? Oh, I remember when I was young, at your age... I always ran back to pretty girls like you."  
Enjolras stared at him raising an eyebrow, slightly stunned.

" **Citizen** , I do not know what you're talking about **_again_**. My name is Enjolras and I'm here because I have to pass through the Wall and I have to urgently. A vital mission awaits me there and I can not stop to talk."  
The old man mumbled confused for a moment, trying to focus on his face.   
“Oh yes, yes! You are that mad guy who always speaks of revolution at the square, isn’t it? Why are you dressed like a lady?” Enjolras was wearing a pair of tight black pants, a white shirt and a red jacket. Not exactly dressed like a woman. “Well, I can’t let you pass, young boy. It is forbidden!” the man nodded to himself, now finally back in his mind –probably-. 

“I’m well aware of it, old Guardian, but it’s vital importance. There is an old Mad King over there and I need to help the people to overthrow their dispotic ruler!”  
“Are you drunk?” the Guardian asked confused to his words.  
“Oh my goddness. Listen to me.” Enjolras bowed, looking into the old man’s eyes, staring fiercely. “I'm sorry, really. I'm sorry for the miserable condition which brought you to stay here, sitting all day, to slowly lose memory. I'm sorry, citizen, unfortunately I can not stop this madness. But I can stop a even greater cruelty. A cruelty which is taking over the other part of the Wall. Stopping a king who condemned thousands of people to suffer for thousands of years. So I humbly ask you to let me pass. You do not care and I know you are going to break a law, letting me go and this hurts me more than you.   
So if you decide not to let me through, I'll understand. I only ask you to think about it."  
"Okay, but bring me a piece of apple pie when you get back." the old man replied without batting an eyelid.  
Enjolras fell from the clouds for a moment, looking stunned. "Excuse me?"

"You've got it right, young man. I'll let you go but you bring me a piece of cake on return."

###### 

No one had ever crossed the Wall: it was a taboo, that's all. So, the first feeling Enjolras felt when he set foot on the land beyond the Wall was... In fact, he was not sure.   
He had always been a guy focused on his goals, he had never stopped to think about what he might feel at the time and he was not even so sure. He only knew that his mission had begun and he could not stop there.

He took a breath and looked at the landscape in front of him. The mountains that was used to observe from a distance were still there, but now they seemed much closer, much more real. He had the feeling of having lived all his life observing a picture of a landscape, and finally being able to see with his own eyes the landscape itself.   
Everything changed, proportions, colours, feelings. As a child, he had always been attracted to it, but now, for the first time, he hesitated.

"Let's go." he gave himself courage and started walking. Beyond the wall, the landscape began with a forest that ended on the ledge of a deep valley which, in the middle of it, stood a village.  
Enjolras walked briskly and reached the beginning of the valley in an hour, looking down the small village lit by human presence. He had brought with him several gold coins and a supply of food and water which would be enough for a couple of days, but he needed of a bed and, above all, of information.

A small boulder at the entrance of the village marked the name Les Mur, just as the village where he lived. Yet this Les Mur was completely different from his village in France.   
Dozens of people walked laughing and joking with large pitchers of beer while the marketplace was in full swing, despite the late hour at night. Enjolras tried to mingle with the crowd to better watch the people, intrigued by legends of magical creatures which lived there. Yet, he faced the reality it was just a bunch of drunk men looking completely human.   
The boy swerved road, taking to the main street and reaching the heart of the market. Dozens and dozens of floats exhibiting their wares and the most absurd sorceries: jars with eyes they seemed to follow you, roasted insects and even real lightning still active, a sign read.

“Hey, hey you! Walking Greek statue, I’m talking to you!” Enjolras turned around confused by the voice who, apparently, seemed to call him. That wasn’t the first time someone called him ‘Greek statue’ or ‘Antinous’ or any of those useless names. Enjolras noticed a girl waving violently his hands behind a stand, trying to catch Enjolras’ attention. 

“Yes, I’m talking to you, come here before someone finds me out!” the girl keeps waving to him, inviting him to approach closer the stand. Enjolras rolled his eyes for a moment, sighing: that was not the time and the moment to buy something in a place he didn’t even know.   
“Listen, young girl, I don’t want to buy—“  
“I don’t care what you want, come here.” The girl took his arm like a fury and she dragged him behind the wagon, in the shadow.  
“Excuse me! What are you doing??” Enjolras exclaimed alarmed, trying to look around more and more puzzled.  
“Oh, calm yourself. I’m not going to molest you and I’m not interested to. I’m just.. Oh Heavens, I’ve waited so long for a Frenchman to come here! I thought you would never come or the Fate was wrong! Let me look at you! Wow, you are pretty! You look like a girl.. Aren’t you a girl, are you?” the little hands of the girl touched the face of Enjolras, examinating him impatient.

“What? Can you _please_ stop??” Enjolras replied exasperated, pulling away the hands from his face. Enjolras raised an eyebrown, perplexed. The weird girl in front of him was a short pretty woman, long blonde hair and eyes of shining gold. High cheekbones, delicate shapes and two incredible long pointed ears. Here a creature who actually had never seen in his life.

“Oh, I’m sorry. But I need to be as quick as possible, the witch may come here in any moment” the girl looked around, worried, trying to not be seen.   
“But… What are you? A fairy, a pixie?” Enjolras asked.  
“What is a pixie? **Food**? Because I’m hungry, right now.” the girl wondered curiously, blinking for a moment. Why everyone was talking about food lately? 

“And no, I’m a Faerie. Well, actually, I’m a princess. The princess of the Faeries from the Land of North. I’ve been captured by a witch who keeps me as her slave.” The Faerie pointed to a figure covered by a long brown cloak which covered the features and the face as she wandered along the stand wearily.  
“I know what you are thinking. No, you can’t save me. It is not your duty. But thank you for the thought” The Faeries continued with a childish smile. Yes, that was a creature he had never seen before in his life.  
“Your duty is not here. It’s far far away from here, in a different Land and it will bring great changes in this world and, especially, it will change your life. It will bring you a blessing or a curse, depends only on you.”

Enjolras was astonished at her words and looked abaist by her words.   
"Are you some kind of... _Seer_?"  
"Oh no, none of that. I can’t see the future but the Faeries can see those things." The Faerie girl giggled happily, stroking with the fingers something invisible and untouchable in the air. "You have to know that human beings are bound together by the invisible threads, the Threads of Destiny. Instinctively, these things lead us toward our future, and especially toward the ones who will change our lives. An important thread, the first of a series of many others, led you to me, because I need to give you something. But the Red Thread, which unites us to the most important person in our lives, is close and it is just waiting for you to follow your path."

"And what is that you have to give me?" Enjolras had so many thoughts in his mind that he had come to the conviction he was sleeping: it could not be otherwise. It was all a dream and he had never crossed the Wall. Indeed, he certainly was dead, and now he lived in a parallel universe. Everything could make sense at this time.

"Right! Right right right!" the girl ran like a storm inside the tank and only now he noticed a silver strand tied on the girl's ankle. Definitely a dream. The girl returned a few moments later, clutching jealously the gift.  
"Remember Enjolras, the fastest way to travel is by candlelight." she placed in the hands of Enjolras a heavy and old half-used candle. He didn’t even care how she would know his name. "This is a Babylon candle. Think only and exclusively to the object you are looking for and it will accompany you. But make good use."

Enjolras looked at the candle in silence, turning it in his hands, not knowing what to say. "Now go, the witch is coming back! Make a safe journey and be careful. You are not the only one looking for a star... Many others are searching for it and none of them shares your own good intentions."  
The Faerie pushed Enjolras away the wagon and out of the sight of the witch.  
Enjolras was so astonished that he could only ask "Who the hell are you?"  
The girl laughed merrily. " **Cosette**. My name is Cosette. Now my goodness, go!"

###### 

The Wizard King stormed into the Hall with a mischevious grin marking his horrible face. When the man smiled, and he smiled rarely, a terrible storm was approaching and everyone had to stay prepared. Madame Thenardier swallowed frightened, leaving her husband walk down the hall like a crazy man, shaking his fist at the sky, muttering unintelligible words, laughing for a moment and then becoming gloomy all of sudden.

"Mother... Father is out of his mind..?" Azelma had awakened few moments before and she had observed with revered fear the actions of the gloomy old wizard.  
"Out of my mind, you say, horrible creature? Oh, maybe, maybe! Maybe I never had the mind! And who has it, no one! Nobody should have the luxury of thinking inside the mold if your projects reach the stars!" the old man commented, laughing like a madman and making the two women even more nervous in his presence.  
"Woman. Follow me in the dungeons."

Madame Thenardier immediately stood up, leaving the poor Azelma and following the husband towards the secret of the immense castle. Most of the structure was abandoned and unused for more than twenty years. The secret laid in the depths of the caves which the castle was built on and it served as a perfect hiding place for all the most precious objects. Gold, jewelry, even some ancient and precious crowns were lying there. But, in the most remote and deep corner, there laid a little and anonymous box which could be mistaken for an abandoned object with no caring. The Wizard King picked up the box with reverence and clutched it to him: he could feel the life and the power inside only by tightening it. 

Madame Thenardier's eyes widened more and more scared.  
"Dear... You promised that you'd left the last piece in extreme cases..." his wife murmured, approaching cautiously to her husband. The man had completely lost the attention to anything but the small object on his hands, mumbling to himself and walking back to the hall.  
"The time has come at last... Oh how have I waited, how... 300 years... 300 years. But you're here now and I can finally take all the power I deserve..." the Wizard King placed softly the small box on a large wooden table and opening it quietly. A little light radiated from the inside of the box, a weak light but still alive. Madame Thenardier walked slowly and looked at the contents with hungry and eager eyes.   
"It is too little, dear ... It will not be enough for both of us."

"Who gave you this crazy idea I want to take you with me?" her husband chuckled, picking up the object of their desires: it was a small piece of reddish flesh emanating its own light though, shining in the hand of the elderly man.  
"This is the last piece left of a Heart Star and I will use it to go and catch the star just fallen. A new heart of a star will allow us to take the power that is rightfully ours."

Madame Thenardier lit up with joy at her husband's words, holding with him the small piece of heart.   
"But, my dear ... We no longer have any Babylon candle. How will you reach the place where the star is? It shall be fall thousands of miles away!"  
"I don’t need that bloody candle to achieve my goals. I just need of this." And with a wicked grin, he ate it in one fell swoop and swallowed the piece of heart. 

A powerful and ancient magic radiated the body of the elderly man, who began to change. The few white hair began to mute itself, replaced by strong black hair, the wrinkles disappeared, dull eyes came to life, bones, muscles, every inch the old man changed and became younger. From a decrepit man of nearly one hundred years, he was transformed into a healthy man of 45 years old.   
The Wizard King smiled full of life and murderous rampage, moving his fingers with pleasure.  
"Oh what a wonderful feeling ..." the voice had changed, from an old grunt in a deep man voice. Madame Thenardier approached to him, excited and stroked cautiosly the strong biceps of the man, astonished. 

Azelma walked up hesitantly with a wrap covered by a heavy dark cloth. The man discovered the envelope and took a long, sharp knife black blade, smiling smugly.  
"That will be fine. Now, I will capture the poor and lost star and, while it still shines in its innocence, I'll open its chest in half and I pull its heart out with my hands. And the power will be ours again."

###### 

The star shone brightly for few moments in the middle of the crater where it had fallen, before the light faded completely, leaving only a boy with curly black hair, half-naked and sore.  
" _Shit_ , I thought it wouldn’t hurt so bad..." the star turned to the ground, rubbing his back. "Thanks for warning me!" he cried out against the sky, the stars all shining. Just one was missing.  
"I'm sorry girls..." he mumbled again, rising from the ground and covering himself as he could, looking around and searching for an escape from the crater.  
 _Good luck, Grantaire_ the stars whispered quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it :))  
> Meanwhile, here the wonderful [graphic](http://brightsidesp.tumblr.com/post/53601881685/if-you-stay-by-my-side-we-can-rule-the) made by my best friend [chiara](http://brightsidesp.tumblr.com) based on the fic! <333  
> and if you want to ask me stuff or others, here my [tumblr](http://fastingorestes.tumblr.com)!


	3. Fallen Stars and Fallen Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So new chapter here! Still unbeta'd so i'm deeply sorry for the probable grammar errors! I tried to make every corrections I could see! Enjoy it!

"Although you've seen it, you cannot deny it! It’s the sign we were waiting for!" Courfeyrac whispered to Combeferre and looked at him seriously. "We cannot deny what we have seen. A star! A fallen star! That’s a miracle!" Courfeyrac seemed caught by the euphoria, rubbing his eyes over and over again, not believing what his eyes had witnessed. Combeferre, on the other hand, seemed anything but enthusiastic: he just sat observing his friend, in silence. "The people will certainly see the falling of a star as the sign to get up! A shooting star brought the beginning of the millennial dictatorship and a star will end it! We need to find the star and bring it here, it will be our banner of revolution!" 

Combeferre sighed warily for a moment, shaking his head. How could he explain to such a excited and emotionated guy that they had just witnessed the passage of a meteor? He was an academic and scientist and he had observed the stars many times during his years of studying; he still observed them, admired by the celestial bodies burning far away from Earth.

"Coufeyrac, I deeply admire your energy, but I doubt sincerely you can just go and take that 'star'... Indeed, I highly doubt you will even find it."  
Courfeyrac rolled his eyes puffing for a moment and sat down near to his friend. 

"You’ve lived here in Stormhold long enough to know things work in a way a little bit different from your boring world! In your world the magic and alchemy are just simple superstition but here, here they are real! Just look at Feuilly who every time takes care of Bahorel’s black eyes after a fight with his magic skills! Despite everything you have witnessed with your own eyes, do you still doubt what I say? "

"Courfeyrac, let’s be reasonable. A star? I have learned to believe many things and I want to believe in many others... But a star? Do you realize what you're talking about? The sun is a star, the sun! Do you want me to believe that something similar to the sun has just fallen without destroying the whole planet? I can believe a lot of things... But this I can not." Combeferre continued quietly. He wanted to sincerely believe in the words of his friend, but how? He himself had used the telescopes to watch the distant stars and so they were: stars. Celestial bodies shining with its own light, that's all. "I repeat, what we have seen is called meteor and they are just pieces of rock through the universe!" 

Courfeyrac stood up and approached the group of friends who were chatting cheerfully, unaware of the discussion about the fallen star: it was better to not alarm no one before any better clarification of the situation. He knew most of the people in that place and he knew he could trust all of them, but a star was a situation far too huge to be handled alone and with such a big group of people.  
"Friends! Combeferre raises a doubt about our world and our customes which keeps fighting against his customes and beliefs from the his world beyond the Wall! Let’s discuss"

His friends laughed while Combeferre sighed wearily. It was not the first time they started that kind of discussion, talking about the differences between their worlds and currents of thought. Too bad for Combeferre, his friends always had the tendency to win, proving him as Stormhold was definitely a world completely different from his own.

“Today we talk about… The shooting stars!” The group of friends started whistling and banging the tankards of ale on the worn wooden tables. Musichetta, the owner of the tavern and friend of the group of revolutionaries, passed around the tables, recollecting the amount of dirty tankards, laughing with them. "Today we’re going to make an important speech! We will not get out alive!" Bossuet said, laughing along with them.  
"Come on, we all know the shooting stars are only legends our grandmothers told us when we went to sleep!" Joly commented nodding and handing the tankard to Musichetta with a huge and happy smile, which she returned with a kiss on his forehead.

"Oh Jollly, don’t begin, we know that is not true, the shooting stars exist!" Bahorel continued.  
"You speak as if you had seen one, Bahorel" Feuilly replied smirking intrigued.  
"Well, no, actually I've never seen a shooting star in my life... But I'm sure they are real! Heck, the first thing we learn when we’re kids is the story of the Mad King and the Fallen Star! I know that bloody story and I've lived in the middle of the street all my life" 

Combeferre looked up for a moment, questionigly. "Courfeyrac talked before about the beginning of the dictatorship because of a fallen star... What are you all talking about?"  
Courfeyrac turned toward him, confused and astonished. "You lived here all this time and anyone has never told you anything about the story of the Mad King yet?”  
"No, if I'm asking, apparently you haven’t told me anything. Why you always assume I know everything?"  
"Because you know everything, 'Ferre." Bossuet continue with a genuine smile.  
Combeferre looked down embarrassed. "Oh please!"

Courfeyrac grinned, taking place between his friends and preparing himself for telling the story. The rest of the friends sat down on the wooden floor, ready to listen like a little group of happy children. Joly took the Combeferre’s wrist and made him sit on the floor with them.  
"We seriously need to do this pantomime of ‘Mama Feyrac, tell us a tale!’ every holy time?" Combeferre asked in exasperation.

A general chorus of "yes" silenced completely the Frenchman, sighing surrendered.

"Calm down children, calm! Mama Courf will tell you a beautiful story today!" the boys clapped their hands like children, enthusiastically.  
"So, many centuries ago, our world was living through a bloody war between the four Lands. One day, however, Stormhold witnessed an unprecedented event. A star fell into it, the most beautiful and bright star of the whole creation, so much beautiful that, in the sky, they keep mourning their loss.  
The star had fallen on Earth, announcing to the world she would bring peace and harmony and gift the eternal life to the one who would have been worthy, someone who deserved to govern with wisdom the kingdom of Stormhold.  
Indeed the star chose a humble man of a small country who had great humility and intelligence and he was elected as the first king of Stormhold and he was gifted the Heart of the Star, the most precious object in the Universe, the only one able to donate the immortality. But the brother of the man had been jealous of such a choice: he thought of himself as more intelligent, capable and fit to rule. He spoke several times with the star and asked her to give him a chance but she refused each time. Then the evil brother decided to go and talk to the star one last time; but, this time, when she refused, he pulled out from his pocket a black bladed knife, he ripped the heart out of the star and ate it.  
So he said ‘If you don’t want to give me your heart, I’ll take it on my own.’

The kingdom was horrified by such an action but the man didn’t care: bewitched by the magic of the Heart of the Star, he killed his own brother and he took the power. Unfortunately, the Heart of the Star gave him a long life, but not endless and, after several centuries, he died, leaving his great-grandchildren to choose who would be his successor. Since that time the kingdom continues to be ruled by the dynasty of the Mad King, a dynasty stained by a horrible sin.  
Yet the story is not finished: it is said that another star has fallen, almost 150 years ago, but it fell into the hands of a young boy who, recently, had discovered the magic. The star tried to persuade the boy not to hurt her and she succeeded, the boy decided he would protect her from everything and everyone. She stayed with him and she ended up falling in love with him.  
But, like her predecessor, she put trust in the wrong person, and when he was assured that no one would have looked for her no more, he tore the heart out of her chest.  
And we know that young boy very well: he became, many years later, the Wizard King."

The group of revolutionary of average mental age of 6 years old clapped their hands excited for the story, eveyone but Combeferre who stood in perfect silence.  
"So? Did I leave you speechless, again?" Courfeyrac commented with an amused smile to Combeferre.  
"On the contrary, my dear friend, you left me with a even bigger doubt." Combeferre smiled back at him defiantly. "Maybe it was just me but… You have spoken of the stars as if they were humans or humanoid beings, something actually weird..."  
Courfeyrac giggled even more amused, standing up in front of his friend, looking into his eyes. 

"No my dear 'Ferre, it was not just you. Indeed, I have never said the stars were, your exact words,' just pieces of rock through the Universe'…"

###### 

Grantaire wore a bloody tunic, but how could they wear a damn tunic up in the sky? They were bloody stars, they could easily go around naked!

No, maybe not naked. 

He was one of the few male stars, and, surrounded by his sisters, it would be rather awkward. Now he had abandoned his sisters and the sky, he had to integrate himself between humans... And drink beer and ace.  
Indeed, a lot of ace, and even wine. He had spent his life watching humans while discovering alcohol and having fun and always so easily they could forget their troubles with alcohol.  
And he definitely had to taste the drink of the gods.

But above all, decent clothes. 

The silver tunic and the wild black curly hair definitely went unnoticed, not to mention his little "problem": Grantair usually shone.  
And in a world like Stormhold, where a small glint meant death, many precautions needed to be taken.  
But, Grantaire didn’t particurarly care. He had fallen in such a big way, throwing himself open arms towards the Earth, a grin on his face, feeling the gravity dragging him towards the solid ground, his sisters screaming frightened by his jump and the whole kingdom as a viewer of the its spectacular dive; hiding himself, for what end now?

He would be hiding in the beginning, he would enjoy his precious drink of the gods, he would forget his demons, he would drown his sorrows in alcohol and then he would come in the hall of the king or the home of a sorcerer, he would unbutton his shirt, show the white chest, and with a cheeky grin, he would tell him:  
"Do you want my heart? Take it... I do not know if it might be useful to you, but eat it as well! It’ll be more useful to you than it has ever been to me in my entire life!" 

A majestic death. 

But now it was no time to think about planning his death, he had to think about how he would be prepared himself for his death.  
Grantaire walked along the wild forest surrounding the crater. The violent impact had destroyed most of the vegetation and some trees were still burning. Grantaire began to run, trying to reach a sheltered place. The forest was dangerous and he could not take any unnecessary risks that could jeopardize his wonderful project of death. 

The tunic was torn, leaving Grantaire just covered in his intime.  
"Damn..." he muttered annoyed, keeping running non-stop until the edge of the forest, bordering a small village at the foot of the mountains. Grantaire leaned against a tree, catching his breath and clinging to the trunk, laughing and trying to catch his breath. He sat down on the ground, clutching around his waist the last shreds of his robe to cover himself.

Leaves and twigs among the black curls, the face dirty from dust and dirt, his blue eyes filled with adrenaline, some scratches on the body and pieces of cloth tied around the waist.  
"Now I look like a shining star bearer of peace and love. Ha!" he laughed to himself, moving closer to the village like an inhabitant of the wilderness. 

The village seemed quiet and most of the people were sleeping peacefully, except for a tavern nearby, full of drunks.  
A man came staggering out of the inn, singing drunk with a nearly empty bottle of wine.  
"Mmmh I have an idea..."

###### 

Grantaire opened the door of the tavern with a cheerful grin, her clothes were now completely different: dark pants stained with beer, a large shirt and a dark green jacket, dress pretty much like the old drunk bum before, what a coincidence! He waved the men, laughing happily and they returned the greeting with a yell of joy. He had already made some friends, apparently.

The evening went on cheerfully, drinking a tankard of ace, two, three, four, until he barely remembered his own name, just laughing, full of euphoria; it was absolutely true, beer and wine were miraculous, every thought of him had passed, every worry, everything was erased and he only felt a great joy and desire.  
Grantaire tried to get up from the chair, laughing and with trembling legs due to the balance. He tried to say a few words, raising his hand but only a hoarse laugh came out from his lips, which caused just as much hilarity among the new drinking buddies and he didn’t even remember their names.

Few were the memories of the star that night, only three events in quick succession: suddenly, the ground began to shake violently, knocking down some drunkards; Grantaire clung to the wall, looking around with a genuine happy confusion.  
"Even the earthquake, my dear friends!" the violence led to a withering light which threw off the roof of the tavern, and finally, a person fell into the arms of Grantaire, knocking him to the ground.

The star blinked a few moments, slightly resuming the reason. Above him, appearing out of nowhere, the most beautiful boy he had ever seen in his long existence as a star: curly blond hair, face shaped from a marble statue, eyes of a kind of blue more intense than the sky itself.  
"Oh, it seems, as well as the stars, even the _angels_ fall from the sky tonight!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I do hope you liked it! Next chapter will come soon as possible!  
> If you need to ask me anything, my tumblr is always [fastingorestes](http://fastingorestes.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Rocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHAHAHA APRIL'S FOOLS.  
> i'm sorry, i'm the worst.

The noise of horse being whipped to run and the wheels of the carriage cracking on the road broke the silence in the quiet night.   
Thenardier had no time to lose. No time to wander, he had to look for his star as soon as possible. Any other witch or wizard could be looking for it right now and time was a privilege he couldn’t afford.

“Come on, come on, you filthy creatures!” he incited the horse which neighed impatiently and galloped.   
Thenardier took the runes and whispered again his request. The magic stones gave him the same reply. West. Galloping to west and then stop.

 _“Other people are looking for it, you must hasten before they take the stars from you!” his worthless wife slaughtered the squirrel and she consulted the gut.  
“The star has fallen west, miles and miles away from here. Other people have already noticed his presence and they are already in their way.” Madame Thenardier continued, studying carefully the limbs of the dead squirrel.  
Thenardier pursued his lips and stared up to his wife, his eyes burning of anger and curiosity.  
“Is_ she _among them?” Thenardier spoke out his thoughts and Madame Thenardier visibly shivered at the mention, avoiding to look at his husband.  
“N-no… She hasn’t…. She hasn’t noticed the star…. She is still..” Madame Thenardier muttered carefully.  
“Good. Still, what a pity, maybe I could have killed her once and for all if she dared to cross my path again.” _

###### 

Combeferre splayed the map of the four Lands on the table and the strumentation. He took the compass and looked again at the window where they had witnessed that miracle of nature -which, still, it was almost impossible to be real-. Courfeyrac studied him and chuckled once more.  
“You still don’t believe me, don’t ya?” Courfeyrac commented, his eyes fixed on his friend.  
“I didn’t say I don’t believe you, I’m just extremely dubious about your decision to go and find a _star_. Which, apparently, has human form and can give immortality. It is too absurd, Courfeyrac, let’s be honest.” Combeferre looked back into his eyes, rubbing tiredly his eyes. “How do you possibly go and find a star?! Where do you go? How do you convince it to follow you? Have you thought about it?”  
“Well, I can always charm the star to follow me.” Courfeyrac grinned amused.  
Combeferre rolled his eyes and wished he could be back to his old, ignorant village in Paris.  
“Kidding, just kidding.” Courfeyrac raised his hands guilty and grinned. “Maybe I can ask him to look around and bring the star here.”   
“Last time you asked him a favour, his friends almost chopped you for selling you in the black market.”  
“He loves me too much. He wouldn’t have even let it happen, I’m sure of it.” Courfeyrac crossed his arm and nodded vigorously.  
Combeferre could only roll his eyes again and smirked for a moment. “Sure. Now, please, let’s go back and talk how are we going to… I don’t even know what to do actually.”   
“Trust me, ‘Ferre.” Courfeyrac smirked to him and held gently his shoulder. “ _He_ will find the star and bring it to us.”

###### 

“So, you are basically telling me that you are a star who has dropped from the sky without reason. No, wait, because you wanted to get _drunk_?”   
Grantaire nodded at every word Enjolras said, sitting in front of each other. The inn had basically emptied after Enjolras landed and destroyed the roof. Grantaire was holding dearly a bottle of wine, purring happily to the bottle. Oh wine, sweet, bitter, beautiful wine!  
“You are obviously drunk. How the hell are you a star?! I mean, stars are…”  
“Are what?” Grantaire replied merrily, looking at the beautiful fallen angel. My, my, what a lucky day for Grantaire, free wine and a beautiful angel! Stars weren’t usually that lucky.  
“ _Rocks._ ”  
“Are you implying I’m cold and hard as a rock?” Grantaire pouted like a child and looked up to him, fluttering his eyelashes prettily.  
“Stop it.” Enjolras muttered inexpressive. He groaned annoyed and almost threw the half used candle he was holding. Grantaire noticed the candle and took it immediately, studying it curiously.   
“Wow, mate, how did you get this?!” Grantaire wondered, touching slowly the candle and sniffing it. Enjolras looked uncomfortable and a bit worried at the other man, raising an eyebrow puzzled.  
“What do you mean? It is a stupid candle a madwoman gave me which it should have led me to a stupid rock.”  
“Sweetheart, this is not a stupid candle, trust me. This is the rarest thing in this world and whoever gave you this, well. This, my friend, is a Babylon candle.” Grantaire smirked to the other guy, hanging the thick, red candle between his thumbs.  
“So I’ve been told, still nothing happened.”  
“It happened, my angel. This is a Babylon candle and it brings everywhere you in this universe, wherever you ask it to go either if you are looking for someone. You think of certain person or a place and puff, there you are! So… have you thought of a hot lonely star?” Grantaire winked to him amused.  
“No. I was looking for a real star.” Enjolras replied again.  
Grantaire huffed and upped with a jump, startling slightly Enjolras. “Follow me, my unbeliever angel, I will show you something.”

Enjolras followed the weird man, still studying him attentive and worried. He never learned to fight properly so if he was to rob him, Enjolras would be quite hopeless. But he was strong and healthy, maybe he could slow him down and give Enjolras time to run away from him. They left rather quickly the village, it was just a little hoard of old houses, even tinier than his hometown. How his father might feel now, worried of his son’s adventure out of nowhere.   
“Come, come, little angel.” the dark haired man jumped silly, holding and swinging the bottle as they reached for a meadow.   
“Stop calling me angel.” Enjolras muttered annoyed.  
The other man turned to look at him and winked again, a little chuckle painted on his lips.   
“And now, tonight, ladies and gentleman, a new trick.” Grantaire announced, slowly walking backwards, his eyes still fixed on Enjolras’s features. It was very dark and Grantaire already blurred himself in the darkness.   
“What… Where are you going…” Enjolras muttered, slowly approaching to him.  
“I’m going… to _disappear_ ” Grantaire laughed and hopped back, actually disappearing.  
Enjolras widened his eyes, shocked. Okay, that was actually a dream, first the madwoman who called herself a pixie and now a drunk man who disappeared in front of his eyes. Enjolras rubbed his eyes in shock and carefully approached, looking around.  
“Hey… Hey, where--HA!” Enjolras didn’t see the immense ravine where Grantaire had landed few hours ago and slipped, almost falling.  
“Gotcha.” Grantaire replied, taking Enjolras in time, wrapping the arms around his waist before he could stumble in the hole and hurt himself. Enjolras took a deep breath, relieved.  
“Don’t ever, EVER, do that again.” Enjolras muttered, freeing and steadying himself not to fall over once more. “Where are we?”  
Grantaire smirked and gave him a wave to follow him again. They descended more in the hole until they reached the epicenter. As the young revolutionary looked around, he could confirm they were in a crater, probably the crater where the star landed. Maybe, maybe, the candle did a good job of bringing him there. Grantaire stopped in the exact epicenter and pointed down. Enjolras looked down and his eyes widened again in disbelief. There was a pretty big sign, the obvious sign of the point where the star knocked down.  
“What…” Enjolras whispered, running a hand through his hair and gulping slowly. What the hell.  
Grantaire smirked again and quickly lay on the ground and grinned up to him, taking the exact shape of the sign. It was the shape of a human form and Grantaire fitted it perfectly. The weird dark haired man made a stupid face as well to give him a point.  
“See?” Grantaire asked again, quite proud of Enjolras’s face right now.  
The young boy slowly swallowed down and pursued his lips, still unbelieving.  
“You’re… You’re actually a star.”  
Grantaire nodded happily and stood up. “Beautiful but a bit slow, aren’t we?” he teased Enjolras again, tilting his head.  
The other man blushed slightly annoyed and scratched the back of his head. Apparently that place was really so different than his hometown, than France itself probably. What could he do now? Enjolras sighed and stared at Grantaire seriously. He had a mission and he couldn’t fail down, he couldn’t fail his Patria now.

“My apologies.” Enjolras whispered as he launched himself on Grantaire, knocking him down. Grantaire made a snort and Enjolras tied his hands with the cord he had brought to carry the star back with him.   
“Woah, woah, woah there!! We haven’t met yet and you already for kink stuff?!” Grantaire commented, trying to free himself.  
“Kink? What are you talking about? No, I need you, I need your power.”  
Grantaire stayed quiet for a moment, staring at Enjolras with an pained expression, his breath itching slightly and his hands trembling.  
“Do you… Do you want my heart?” Grantaire whispered, his voice cracked.  
Enjolras furrowed his eyebrows confused and helped him stand up again.   
“Heart? What the hell are you even talking about, again? No, I need you. You’re a banter of hope and peace and I need you to help me bring hope and peace in my country.”  
Grantaire opened his eyes wide and his jaw dropped slightly.   
“Are you even real?” Grantaire commented before bursting out laughing in disbelief and relief. “Oh, God. Oh God. You’re an angel and even a good one. Wait… You’re not from these lands, aren’t you?”   
Enjolras shook his head and Grantaire nodded quietly and let out a soft sigh.   
“I see. So you don’t know. Either you’re a very good actor and this is a whole trap. Still, when you will find out about my power, I know that the pretty face of yours will turn from the features of an angel to the shapes of a demon. That’s because you’re human and _humans never change._ ”


End file.
